


This Too Shall Pass

by rainingover



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, M/M, Monsta X Bingo, Mutual Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7851841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainingover/pseuds/rainingover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They become friends during a summer of bicycle rides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Too Shall Pass

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [И это тоже пройдёт](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8096380) by [lieutenant_cloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieutenant_cloud/pseuds/lieutenant_cloud)



> Written for the Childhood Friends square for week 4 of MX fic bingo

They become friends during a summer of bicycle rides. Of ice-cream, and water fights, and scraped knees, and curfews; Hyungwon leading Minhyuk home by the hand, blood dripping down Minhyuk's knee as he holds back tears until they reach his front step, a desperate attempt not to cry in front of his brand new friend.

(He fails and a tear escapes, but if Hyungwon sees it, he doesn’t say anything.)

Their friendship continues past the summers of scraped knees and into summers of part time jobs, of swimming pools and sneaking out at midnight.

People say, “Why are you always together?”

And they laugh, shrug. Say, “Why wouldn’t we be?"

They're friends. And they're going to be friends forever, or so they think.

(All kids think that way, Hyungwon muses afterwards, once it's not the same, once they're never together, and the memories sting.)

 

-

 

Minhyuk doesn't hide his emotions, can't, won't. And they're friends (always friends), but as countless summers make way for their last, he wonders whether that's all they could be. Whether that's all he wants.

Hyungwon isn't an open book, and so Minhyuk can't read in his expression whether Hyungwon holds him in the same regard. What he does know is that Hyungwon begins to consider him from a distance, always an arm's length away. It feels like he's treading water against a strong current, whilst Hyungwon floats calmly near the shore.

They're together less that summer and Minhyuk pines from outside the perimeter that Hyungwon has set.

And then there are wistful stares and grand gestures and attempts to break through. Until they move away. College, somewhere far away, oceans apart.

Minhyuk comes back first, three years later, with a leather jacket and a faint smell of cigarette smoke in his hair. He laughs off accusations of smoking from friends. Says, "My boyfriend smokes; this is his jacket. I think I'll keep it, though, suits me better." Lets their friends paw at him, ask question after question about life away from suburbia, away from everything.

(Minhyuk thinks of it as life away from Hyungwon, but he doesn’t say so.)

Hyungwon watches from the back of the crowd, contemplates what might have been, but never would. Chances missed and orbits out of sync. Regret has set deep in his bones, but it's too late for regret, or maybe it's just his pride telling him that. 

Later, when they're alone, he says, "I used to have a jacket like that."

Minhyuk laughs, eyes sad. Says, "Did you? I hardly remember those days."

“Me neither,” Hyungwon replies, but they’re both lying, and they both know it.

 

-

 

They see each other a little that Summer. Here and there. It’s a small town, and a smaller neighbourhood. So, they see each other.

There’s a party and it’s hot, and it’s late, and the alcohol is free. They smile at each other, stand side by side for the first time in a long time.

Someone says, “You two were always together.”

They shrug and laugh and say, “Were we?” As if they don’t remember.

They'll always remember. Friendships are funny like that.

They walk back from the party, warm and lazy, heavy bones, tired eyes. Minhyuk watches Hyungwon’s face as they walk, waits for any flicker of reciprocation, the sort he held his breath for years before. And he sees it, for a while, but it goes again as soon as Hyungwon realises he's being watched. They're walking together, but Minhyuk feels far away from him again.

Old habits die hard.

Before Minhyuk goes back, returns to where he now belongs (away, they’re never together anymore), he stands in front of Hyungwon on a hot afternoon, t-shirt sticking to his skin, heartbeat in his mouth, and says, “Tell me to stay here. Tell me to stay here and you know I will.”

And maybe Hyungwon wants to, but he knows he never will. Instead he leads Minhyuk back home by the hand. Minhyuk doesn’t look him in the eye, awaits bitter tears that will flow later. Holds them in, their hands clasped tightly and unspoken words between them that will never be said.

(He fails and a tear escapes, but if Hyungwon sees it as he drops Minhyuk's hand and leaves him on the front porch, he doesn’t say anything.)


End file.
